March 27, 1887
The day had been hectic. What with arriving back from the resort the day before and the party being thrown today - some of which she couldn't say she approved of, the bear was over the top and she just knew the illusions would cause troubles - troubles she would have to fix and could easily be blamed for knowing her mistress. And with the level to which Ophelia was demanding the party be held, all of the staff were being run ragged. Still, with everything going on, she had finally caught a break and had found herself a somewhat quite corner in the loud kitchen, near the door where she sat chopping onions on a small table, the task having been passed off by a kitchen maid - they had likely unwisely figured she could manage such a small task and while nothing had gone wrong, she was far more used to hair positions and clothing than food, so something was likely to go wrong with the twenty-three-year-old wielding a knife, even if it was indirectly by magic.
She peered up from the onion, her eyes watering slightly when she heard a knock on the staff door. Would someone else get it? Someone who actually worked in the kitchen? No, apparently not, not when a harsh gesture was directed towards her and then the door. Therefore she abandoned the onion, wand still in grip, the spell still trailing the knife after her. "Hello?"
@'amelia scamander' @'ophelia dippet'
![[Image: 2j1pwza.jpg]](http://i67.tinypic.com/2j1pwza.jpg)
thank you lynn for the amazing set!!